


Ezra's Prosthetic

by ARainDragon



Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Gen, Pre-Season 2 finale, mostly season 2, no specific time frame really, obiwan does freak out over Ezra, thats chapter two though
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-08
Updated: 2016-11-12
Packaged: 2018-07-29 03:07:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7667833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ARainDragon/pseuds/ARainDragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ezra has a secret that needs some serious maintenance. Once the Ghost crew learns that Ezra has a prosthetic, they hope that nothing will change, except that his leg seems to fall apart all the time and getting the parts is seemingly impossible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Knowledge

Ezra swore as his stupid leg stopped moving. Ducking behind a few crates, he frantically searched for Kanan, hoping that they wouldn’t leave him behind. Stupid thought. They hardly leave him alone anymore, which was why the stupid leg had probably failed in this awful moment.  
  


“Come on, Ezra, we have to move,” Kanan shouted. The Storm Troopers were closing in fast. If they didn’t move, they would all be dead.  
  


Ezra swore again, pulling out a screwdriver and pounding the leg with it, hoping to jolt it back to action. He had to move. Now. Maybe once he started moving again it would move. Standing on one leg, he tried to stand on the other one, before collapsing to the ground.  
  


“What are you doing Ezra? We have to move,” Kanan said, sprinting over to where Ezra lied on the ground. “Can you run?”  
  


“Apparently not. Stupid leg,” Ezra muttered, “never works when it has to.”  
  


Kanan wordlessly picked up his Padawan, carrying him back to the Phantom where Sabine was already in the air, waiting for them. Safe in the air, Kanan now could discover as to why Ezra couldn’t walk.  
  


Ezra was already working on his leg, methodically taking off his shin armor and rolling up the pant leg of his orange jumpsuit. Karan couldn’t see anything wrong with the leg, until Ezra peeled away the false skin, expertly avoiding the sparking wires.  
  


“Your leg is sparking,” Kanan said, mouth fumbling to form the correct words. How long had he had this? Why didn’t Ezra tell him? Why hadn’t they found him sooner? Sabine jerked the Phantom, away from enemy fire, calmly talking to Hera about the situation over the comms.  
  


“I know, Kanan,” Ezra said, messing around with the components of his leg, hoping to jolt something to get it functional enough so that he could make some real repairs on it. He swayed to Sabine’s evasion maneuvers while simultaneously working on his prosthetic leg. Kanan forced himself to focus on helping Sabine get them out safely. It wouldn’t matter if Ezra was missing a leg if they all died.  
  


“I’m in the pocket,” Sabine said, parking the Phantom into the Ghost.  
  


“Hello Hyperspace,” Hera said over the comms. The space turned a streaking blue before Sabine or Kanan moved. Ezra was still diligently working on his leg, making it mobile again. Kanan forced himself to walk away as Sabine came over to ask questions about the model. He had to stay calm, otherwise he wasn’t sure what he was going to do. Meditating was probably the best right now. Certain events. The murder of a child would not go well with Hera in the least. How much has this kid lived through?  
  


Who knows how much later, Ezra tapped Kanan’s shoulder. “Kanan, Hera wants you,” he said, limping back to his room. The leg was working enough that Ezra could move. Kanan took a deep breath, and moved to find Hera.  
  


Ezra, in the meantime, was attempting to avoid Chopper as he made his way into his room. There, he had stashed the right tools to do a better job of fixing the stupid leg. It wasn’t until he was in his room before he realized that getting to those specific tools would be almost impossible. The knee wouldn’t bend far enough to jump of to the top bunk, nor could he just climb the ladder. He considered taking off the leg, but he hadn’t climbed without it in years. He wasn’t sure if it was possible anymore.  
  


Chopper rolled into the room, intent on some form of destruction. Until he saw his favorite organic staring at his bed. Why wasn’t the small organic moving? Was he frozen, the wires connecting to his brain finally turned off to charge? The small meatbag turned to the astromech, burbling about wanting his tools from the secret room he created in the ceiling. Chopper whirred in anger. Why couldn’t the meatbag get it himself? He had a body that maneuvered different Z planes that he did.  
  


Ezra turned to Chopper painfully. “I would go get it myself, but this stupid leg won’t bend right.” He collapsed to the floor, once again rolling up the leg on his ratty orange jumpsuit, showing Chopper the unruly leg. It had stopped sparking, but the synthetic skin had been completely burned away, revealing rusty screw plates and assorted pieces he took from the street, completing the picture of poverty in need of new technology. “Can you fix it enough that Zeb or Hera won’t notice?”  
  


Chopper pulled out his electro-prod, and prodded the boy in the leg. Electricity spread from the prosthetic toward the rest of him, shocking the boy painfully. “You need a new leg. It’s not supposed to do that,” Chopper said, poking a now sparking leg with one of his arms.  
  


“I know that it shouldn’t do that, but do you see any new legs just lying around?” Ezra said, glaring at the astromech before him. “Can you make it bend enough so that I can get my tools to make better adjustments?” Ezra listened to Chopper’s angry whirring and beeping patiently. “I can understand that. How about I give you an upgrade after you fix this heap of junk a little?” He listened to Chopper’s reply with a grimace. He didn’t relax until Chopper had ripped some wiring from his knee, releasing the mechanism so that he could bend it more. Ezra patted the astromech’s head. I’ll work on that upgrade as soon as I get those tools.”  
  


Ezra climbed up into his bed, efficiently grabbing his tattered toolbox before descending back to Chopper to work on the electro-prod so that it could fire the electricity bolts over a farther distance. Ezra wasn’t sure if it was a good idea to give Chopper that much power, but the astromech had promised him much needed parts for his leg as part of the deal.  
  


It wasn’t until late into the night that Chopper and Ezra were done with those repairs. Ezra hadn’t realized how suspicious it was that Zeb hadn’t entered their room to get some much needed rest. If he had, maybe then he wouldn’t have been so eager to grab a snack from the rations. If he had realized, then maybe he would have done a better job of covering up the prosthetic instead of leaving it out in the open for a certain family to see. An angry and distressed Hera is a Hera that one never wants to encounter.  
  


The woman herself was standing in the kitchen area with her arms crossed, with Kanan, Sabine, and Zeb sitting by the holochess table, quieter than the whispering grasses on Lothal. “You were going to tell us, when?” Hera asked, green eyes blazing with motherly anger.  
  


Ezra tried to slink into the shadows, only to be pulled forward by a slender green hand with greater force than necessary. He wanted to fight away, but knew that it would make it worse for him, so he let Hera drag him to the holochess table to be interrogated by the Ghost crew. The leg hummed softly as Ezra sat down on a nearby crate, waiting for the questions to fall out of their mouths.  
  


Hera was first, like he knew that she would. “How long have you had it?”  
  


Ezra risked a glance at his Master, hoping for a way out. However, seeing the look in Kanan’s eyes deterred him from hoping for an escape. He took a deep breath, still deciding on whether telling the truth would get him out faster than lies. “Three years.”  
  


“How did it happen?” Hera asked quietly, folding her hands in her lap. She seemed unsure of what she wanted to hear from him.  
  


“Desperate times call for desperate measures. I had to sell it in order to survive.” It wasn’t exactly the truth, but close enough to what actually happened to placate Hera. If she knew what really happened to it- He stopped, staring at Hera’s horrified expression in confusion. Didn’t they know that selling body parts was normal in the outer rim?  
  


Ezra turned to Zeb, who couldn’t seem to control the rage bubbling underneath his fur. “Give me the name of the buyer. I’ll kill ‘im.” Zeb turned to Sabine, cracking his knuckles.  
  


Ezra’s attention darted through everyone’s reactions. Everyone seemed furious, but for the life of him, Ezra couldn’t understand why they were so angry. Even Kanan was struggling not to let the rage flowing through him control his actions. Ezra could feel it, and he wasn’t sure how to react. It was jut a leg. He knew people that had given up more for less.  
  


The silence overpowered the beating of five hearts in that room, and Ezra couldn’t move a muscle. For what seemed like an eternity, Sabine asked Ezra a question of her own. “Can I paint it?”  
  


A burst of nervous laughter erupted from Ezra’s chest. “What?”  
  


“Your leg,” Sabine said, bending down to look at the creases and crevices. “Can I paint it?”  
  


“Why?” Ezra shakily looked at the Mandalorian before him.  
  


Sabine laughed. She knew that she had to lighten up the mood, otherwise Hera was going with Zeb to kill every body marketer in Lothal. “It’s much too grey. Don’t you think that it needs some color?”  
  


Ezra studied the grey metal attached to him. “I guess so, but nobody will ever see it.”  
  


“But you will,” Sabine said, her grin widening. He needed something of hers to keep with him all the time. That way, she would never be forgotten again.  
  


Ezra wasn’t sure if he was breathing or not. If she was going to paint it, what would she put on it? Something humiliating, or something for just the two of them? “I’ll be replacing parts on it soon, so your painting wouldn’t be whole for long.”  
  


Sabine grinned. “More canvas for me then.”  
  


“I never said you could do it. What if I want it to be its normal self?”  
  


The girl leaned in close, “Who said you had any choice, kid?”  
  


Ezra tried to distance himself. This was getting too intense for comfort. She would probably put something humiliating on it, which could not happen. “My l-leg, m-my rules,” he stammered out weakly. Idiot!  
  


Sabine’s grin grew. “Guess I’ll have to kidnap you.”  
  


Ezra bolted out of there, hoping to find a place to hide that the Mandalorian wouldn’t be able to find him. He didn’t make it three steps before Sabine had caught him in her arms, carrying him to her room. She didn’t care about the consequences, all she cared about was keeping everyone’s sanity and maybe to mess around with her baby brother.  
  


After Sabine had disappeared with Ezra in tow, Hera couldn’t hold back her rage any longer. Her voice dangerously low, Hera turned to Kanan, “How could he be so happy with a life so messed up?”  
  


Kanan held Hera close, as the angry tears spilled. “Survival makes the strong, stronger, and he was lucky that they didn’t ask for more.”  
“And if more of him is missing-“  
  


“Then we just carry on. You know this, Hera,” Kanan said, hoping that nobody could see the pain in his movements.  
  


“Why couldn’t we have found the kid sooner?” Zeb said with a snarl, “Maybe then he wouldn’ be missing a leg.”  
  


Kanan nodded in consent. “He’s here now.”  
  


“And we’re never letting him go,” Hera said, releasing herself from Kanan’s embrace. “Though we all wish we could have found Ezra sooner, he’s with us now, and the pain that he could have on the streets is nipped.”  
  


“And he’ll experience pain by fighting with us,” Zeb said.  
  


Kanan touched Zeb’s shoulder. “But we’re here to help him through that pain, as a family.” He turned toward the doors that he could get some rest, or to have a serious meditation. Tomorrow was probably going to be just as stressful. Collapsing into his cabin, Kanan folded himself into a meditative pose, and closed his eyes. Just what he needed.


	2. In Tatooine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the Ghost is salvaged on Tatooine, Kanan and Ezra search for parts so they can get off this horrid planet. Ezra meets some people his own age, and his leg is being a nasty piece of work.

Kanan said that the trip to Tatooine would be a fast and easy trip. Make sure that a certain family was still alive, then leave to report. A mission specifically detailed from Senator Bail Organa. They did not plan on getting trapped on Tatooine, unable to escape the treacherous planet. Nor did they plan on getting real close to the family that they were checking up on.

The mission started falling apart when vital pieces of the Ghost had been salvaged by the locals, rendering the ship useless. Hera had sent Kanan and Ezra out to get some of the parts they needed to get into the air while her, Zeb, Chopper, and Sabine protected the ship from additional thieves.

As they trudged through the desert, Ezra asked Kanan senseless questions to get his mind off the pain where his skin and his metal prosthetic met. If he got his mind off of it, then Kanan probably wouldn't notice that it was hurting. It wasn't helping that the sand was getting stuck in the little crevices, making the leg heavier as time went on. With the leg getting heavier with each step, it rubbed on his skin more, and with each passing moment made hiding the limp harder and harder. Ezra stumbled on the unstable terrain, falling to his knees.

Kanan stopped, worried for his Padawan. "Are you okay, Ezra?"

"I'm fine," Ezra said, struggling to stand. Everything was starting to hurt, the spot where his prosthetic met his skin burning like one of Sabine's bombs. He knew that it wasn't okay, but he was sick and tired of everyone worrying over him ever since they found out his prosthetic. Kanan and Zeb were really the only people who weren't treating him like he was broken, and he didn't ever want pity from Kanan. It wasn't like he could do anything for the pain, so there was no reason to speak of it. He looked at the desert surrounding them for a distraction. In the distance, he spotted something that didn't seem to fit in with the rocks and the sand. "What do you think that is, Kanan?" he asked, pointing to the white haze.

Kanan shaded his eyes, searching for what Ezra had spotted. "I can't see it, but lead the way."

Ezra trudged onwards, excited for a possibility of rest, and some water too. He could survive another day without water, but his body had already adjusted to getting a steady supply, so it would be more of a distraction than it used to be.

The two walked until the white haze turned into a small hut, where Kanan eagerly struck up with the couple that lived there. A boy around Ezra's age appeared in the door while Kanan and Ezra were drinking water in their kitchen.

"Who are they, Uncle Owen?" the boy asked, grabbing a cup and pouring himself a drink.

"How about you introduce yourself and find out, boy?" Uncle Owen replied.

The boy laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah sure." He turned to the two strange people in earnest. "Are you guys from off world? I'm Luke. Luke Skywalker. I want to be a Jedi like my father before me. What type of planets have you seen? Anything is better than this planet."

Kanan spluttered, choking on his water. He knew that last name, and he knew it well. Ezra stared at this strange boy who was so bold in his speech. Nobody he ever met spoke of the Jedi in such a conversational tone, even if the Empire wasn't breathing down their necks. "I'm Ezra, and this is Kanan," Ezra said, unsure of how to continue.

"We're travelers, and we've lost parts to our ship," Kanan said, "We're looking for a place to replace them. It would be wonderful if you could direct us to a place to get them."

The woman who was introduced as Aunt Beru nodded, shuffling around the kitchen. Ezra stared at her from the corner of his eye. He wondered for a split second if his mother would be as submissive as she seemed to be if she were alive today. He ducked his head. He could never see his mother act like this women even if she was forced. Before his eyes burned with tears, Kanan's hand was on his shoulder, a reassuring presence and a reminder to stay focused. A hand that promised space to think and meditate later. Ezra attempted to pay attention to what they were talking about, but he was too lost to make sense of anything, so he just sat there, accepting whatever was thrust into his hands and words that fell from Kanan's mouth.

Soon enough the conversation was over. Ezra was dragged to where he and Luke could have some fun. Considering it has been a long time that he has spent time with someone his own age that wasn't part of the Empire felt strange. The two boys had played with Luke's model ships, creating mock battles. This in itself was strange to Ezra, and a little boring. Real battles was where the fun began. He kept mouth shut and played the part of a regular teenager.

That was until Kanan had suggested for Ezra to hang out with Luke and his friends for the time being. He had sent the Padawan off with one warning: Don't tell anyone about being a Jedi.

Ezra laughed off the warning, but still took it to heart as he disappeared with Luke while Kanan talked to Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru about who knows what. For some reason, Ezra, Luke, and his friends ended up in the middle of nowhere playing a betting game with blasters.

"I bet that you can't shoot that green rock from here, Luke," one of the boys said. Luke only laughed, taking the blaster, setting up the sights, and blasting the rock out of its home among the others. The boys hooted and hollered, high on their sense of power. Ezra faked it, saddened that they didn't realize how stupid this all was. Luke was a somewhat decent shot, but the chosen rock wasn't really far enough away to show any semblance of skill handling a blaster. Ezra watched the game of bets and dares with a dulled interest, only participating when he felt the need to in order to not seem aloof to them. To make it seem like he actually cared, or that their games were actually entertaining. He realized that he wasn't doing a well enough job when they started to single him out.

"I bet that Ezra would cry if he punched him," a different boy said, finally bored with shooting rocks and wamp-rats, "he's so small, one punch would break every bone in his body."

The bigger boys agreed readily, anticipating a brawl. The new kid would have to prove himself, and shooting a blaster just wouldn't cut it.

Ezra knew what they were playing at, but Kanan had specified that Jedi stuff wasn't allowed, which basically amounted to no fighting. However, he knew that they wanted him to prove himself. Without a word, he took the blaster from Luke's hands. The laughter instantly stopped, the boys unsure of what Ezra was going to do.

Ezra made eye contact with every boy, thumbing the safety off of the blaster. It was such a practiced movement, he didn't even have to look. Compared to these boys, he was the master. Once he had broken eye contact with the last boy, he twirled the blaster in his hand, turning it on himself, and blasted his leg.

The boys watching all flinched as the blaster went off. The only boy who didn't was Ezra, who didn't move a muscle. The boys didn't notice this, and waiting for the new kid to fall in a shout of pain once they had recovered their senses. Ezra once again made eye contact with each boy before he handed the blaster to Luke, walking away as if he hadn't just shot himself in the leg.

He walked all the way back to Luke's house in silence. Luke had rushed to meet up with him, babbling about how amazing he was, and how are you still walking? Didn't that hurt? Ezra said nothing as he continued on his way. He sure hoped that when he shot his prosthetic, nothing important had broken. He had aimed to shoot the shielding, but the urge to make sure that it was still intact grew as the walk wore on. He could have missed, or the metal shielding was destroyed when he shot his leg. Especially since his leg was hurting him like when his arm or head hurt after Zeb threw him while fighting. Or when a force jump went wrong.

The two boys arrived at Luke's house just as the two suns set in the west. Kanan had waited for them, for which Ezra was grateful. Even though he wasn't limping, he knew that something was wrong with the leg. Something was always wrong, but this would probably need replacement parts. However, he knew that getting to those parts would be near impossible, so there was no need to voice his concerns. He would just have to fix it as well as he could before they went back to the rebellion to get some real parts. Now however, he sat down on the floor in a huff, leg flared in pain. Ripping away the burned fabric, he opened the panels into his leg, ripping out wires to get the pain to stop. Nothing was working, Ezra realized, curling up on the floor. This pain wasn't part of the machinery, which meant that nothing could be done. Ezra swore, even though the pain shouldn't be real, it was, and it hurt like a bantha fodder. "Karabast," Ezra muttered, hoping that no one would find him until it stopped.

As if life would give him a break. Ezra swore again when Luke walked in where Ezra was hiding. Luke cried out in joy, nearly throwing himself at Ezra's leg to get a better look. "You have a prosthetic? That's amazing. Where did you get it? What model? How did you get it? Why does it look like someone ate it?"

Ezra recoiled in horror. He was caught with his mind completely blank. Karabast. "What?"

"Do you need help fixing it? I got some tools and some parts from some droids that might make that heap of junk movable," Luke said, twisting the leg every which way, examining ever crevasse and torn wire. "It's not built for such high temperatures or sand. How are you still walking? This heap of junk shouldn't even be working at the moment. Ha. That's why you shot yourself and didn't fall. That's brilliant. I wish I had one of these. Not this though. This is a piece of trash."

Luke has the tools and the parts, Ezra realized. He took a deep breath. Goodbye dignity. "Think you can fix it? I don't have the parts to fix it."

Luke grinned, "Totally do."

Ezra mentally barfed. Putting on a winning smile he said, "I'd do anything for you to fix it."

Luke's grin turned into a whoop of joy. "I'll get my tools. Tell Aunt Beru that I'll be missing dinner."

Ezra stopped smiling. Missing dinner? Why? "How can I? I'll be here, and I'm not missing dinner."

"I could take it off so that you can eat—"

"—No." He was not crawling to dinner missing a leg. He could not stand to see the look that Kanan would give him.

"You did say that you would do anything," Luke said, pulling out the tools and parts that he needed.

Ezra groaned. Missing dinner it is. "I guess it's better to miss a meal than to never walk again."

Luke hummed in response, already absorbed in his work.

An hour had passed before Luke started up with a conversation with Ezra. They talked of frivolous things, leading up to the big question. "You never answered my question."

"Which one?" Ezra refused to acknowledge his growling stomach, or the feeling of Kanan searching for him.

"Why do you need a prosthetic in the first place?"

"I lost the leg."

"Duh. How did you lose it though? Did the rebels or the empire take it from you?" The leg sparked, and both boys flinched.

"I was trying to get away from a bounty hunter where it got stuck. He tried to cut me up, but he only hit my leg. The cut was too deep and infected, so they had to cut it off," Ezra said. Not the truth, but entirely a lie either.

"Didn't you have a med center to fix that with a bacta tank?" Luke screwed on one of the last screws to the plating on his leg.

"No. I took what I could get." The bounty hunter would have gotten to him before he would have made it to the med center. It wasn't like they would have treated him either.

"That's messed up." He patted the leg. "It's the best I could do. Got the sand out and fixed some of the frayed wires. You really should have it repaired professionally, but getting a new one would be cheaper in the long run."

"Thank you," Ezra said.

Luke laughed. "It's no problem. My father was an amazing mechanic. I want to be just like him; a mechanic and a jedi."

Ezra ducked his head, touching his lightsaber in reassurance. He left the room, ready to leave. He hoped that Kanan was ready to leave as well. Tatooine was certainly a strange place, and he did not want to be there much longer.

Ezra walked into the kitchen where Kanan was quietly talking to Aunt Beru and sat down at the table. His repaired leg bounced as he waited for Kanan to finish.

With the conversation done, Kanan turned to his Padawan. "We'll have to stay here for a little while longer while we wait for Hera and Zeb to help with the parts. Probably two more days here."

"Okay Kanan," Ezra said, mentally steeling himself for more time spent with the nosy boy. It was going to be a long two days."


	3. Obi Wan and Ezra Talk

Waking up to twin suns forced the perspective that this planet is nothing like Lothal. Some of the people were similar, but whenever Ezra breathed in the dusty dry air, he felt a little homesick. Not that he was homesick, what are you even talking about? Of course, home didn't have a babbling Luke or a vast array of semi-useless parts. Some were better than the ones on the Ghost, but a desert planet isn't fun, just like being on one of the moons of Genosis. Ezra shivered as the memory of his leg freezing up in the blistering cold when they were picking up Zeb. He was only out there for a minute, but that minute almost destroyed his leg, revealing his secret. Not that it was much of a secret now.

Waiting for Hera, Sabine, and Zeb to show up was harder than if he had to sprint without his leg. He would know. It wouldn't have been as hard if Luke wasn't talking to him all the time, question by question falling from his mouth about the galaxy away from here. Every now and then he was happy to oblige, but after the tenth question he was sick of it, 60th, completely dead inside. He didn't know much about Wild Space, which seemed to be Luke's topic of desire for that hour. When he wasn't asking questions, he was talking about his friends, the latest model in speeder bikes, droids, or Old Ben the hermit who they had to meet.

Kanan seemed interested in the old man who lived by himself in the cave. Aunt Beru had whispered when it was only them that he had only been a hermit for as long as the Empire ruled, there was something else, but she wasn't allowed to tell. When Luke had decided to introduce them to the hermit, Kanan happily tagged along. "Always ready to meet a new face," he said, only mentioning to Ezra about the small push from the force to meet this man. It's somebody important, but keep it quiet.

Getting to Old Ben's territory was difficult, concerning the fact that Luke didn't know exactly which cave he lived in.

"You don't actually know how to get to him," Kanan said, staring at the boy leading the way.

The boy shuffled his feet. "I've only been there a few times. He just finds you and then leads the way. I've always been here when he's found me so we just wait until he finds us."

Ezra swallowed. "How has he usually found you?"

Luke shrugged. "When I need him, he comes."

"That's not really good for social calls," Kanan muttered.

"He is a hermit," Ezra replied.

"Who just happens to be the second most awesome person," Luke said.

"Who's the first?" Ezra asked.

"My Dad. The best pilot in the galaxy. He can fly anything. Awesome mechanic too," Luke said, his voice rising in excitement.

"Wasn't he a Jedi too?" Ezra asked.

Luke turned to him, "You knew my Father?"

"No," Ezra said, "But you said—"

"Ezra," Kanan's voice was soft, yet commanding. Stop talking.

Ezra obliged.

Luke kept talking about all the ships his Father had flown, lamenting his sorrows of the galaxy being unexplored by him. "I want to see it all. When Uncle Owen lets me join the Academy then I can see it all."

"Do you like the Empire?" Karan asked.

Luke shrugged. "It's a way out of this backwater planet."

"What if you had a different way to explore?" Ezra asked.

"Your Uncle wouldn't want you to go," said a voice coming from above.

Ezra's attention whipped up to the man standing on the rocks above them. He didn't look very old, just aged well beyond his years. A memory sparked in the back of Ezra's mind, but he couldn't grasp at it. Familiar. This man had suffered, much more than a majority of the people suffering from the Empire. His greying hair dominated his tired face, even as he leaped down the rocks to talk to Luke. He never really smiled, as if he had smiled too much in his suffering. A quick pulse in the force came from the man. Ezra glanced at Kanan, wondering if he had felt the same thing.

Kanan seemed to be lost in his memories, mouth open slightly as he processed the man before him.

After Luke's conversation with the man, he turned to his new friends. "This is Old Ben, the guy I was telling you about."

Kanan closed his mouth, eyes still wide in amazement. Ezra smiled, stepping up to him. "I'm Ezra, and that's Kanan. What do you do as a hermit?"

"Come with me and I'll show you," Old Ben said. He smiled at Luke. "You should go home. It's getting late. Don't want to worry your Aunt and Uncle now do you?"

"But they're my guests, why can't I stay?" Luke said.

Old Ben turned him toward his house. "I'll take good care of them. We have much to discuss."

Luke groaned, walking back toward his house. "See you tomorrow then."

Old Ben nodded, waiting for Luke to disappear before turning to his guests. "Come sit with me and share your stories. I'm sure you have much to tell." Old Ben guided them to his cave, shutting the door behind him.

"As do you, Master Obi Wan Kenobi,' Kanan said, kneeling by the table, Ezra following suit.

"So you recognize me. I don't believe that I recognize you, however," Obi Wan said, sitting in a stool by the wall.

"I was Depa Billaba's Padawan during the Clone Wars," Kanan said. Ezra listened eagerly. Kanan never talked about those days. If he did, it was with Hera and the doors tightly sealed.

Obi Wan nodded. "The inquisitive Padawan Dume survives. I'm happy to hear that some of you young minds escaped the massacre."

"How did you escape, Obi Wan?" Ezra asked. Dume. The name did not fit the man before him. All he could see was a Jarrus.

Kanan nudged him. "You call him Master. It's a term of respect," he said just loud enough for Ezra to hear.

"I don't call you Master, Master," Ezra said, just as soft.

Obi Wan laughed. "You can call me an old fart and I wouldn't care, young one. The Jedi ways are gone and are better left unspoken. Tell me, Caleb. I go by Old Ben for my protection, what do you call yourself for yours?"

"Kanan Jarrus."

"Tell me, Kanan, have you taken on a Padawan in these dark times?"

"Yes."

"What have you learned from being a teacher?" Obi Wan grabbed a chest but didn't open it, instead lightly stroking the bindings, keeping the lid closed.

"Even though I never finished my training, learning along with Ezra has taught me more than if I had continued my training by myself," Kanan said, his voice deepening under the burden of memories. Ezra's force signature brushed against his master's in comfort. Caleb Dume. A forgotten name, best left forgotten. He wondered if Kanan would ever go by Caleb again.

"What of his lightsaber?"

Ezra grinned, pushing the thought of forgotten names and unclipping his lightsaber from his belt, he handed it to Obi Wan.

Obi Wan turned it over in his hands a few times, mouth opening and closing in shock. "It's… a peculiar design. Why is it rectangular in shape?"

Ezra took the lightsaber from him, standing to have some room for a demonstration. The lightsaber ignited with the familiar hiss, Obi Wan admired the blue blade before Ezra turned it off, shooting a stun bolt towards Kanan's already ignited lightsaber. Obi Wan stood, shock clearly written on his face, his mouth wide open in a silent scream.

His mouth opened and closed, but no sound moved past his lips. It was a time before he could speak again. "That's, an… interesting design. Why would you add on such an uncivilized design to your lightsaber?"

"Uncivilized?" Ezra asked, holding the lightsaber in his hands. Studying it as if for the first time.

Obi Wan pulled out his own lightsaber. "The weapon we Jedi choose is the most elegant weapon of destruction. It takes skill in its forms to use it, unlike a blaster where anyone can shoot it and still hit the side of a house if they can see. Since anyone can use a blaster, it makes it uncivilized as a tool and as a weapon, which is why we Jedi don't use blasters as weapons."

Ezra stared at Kanan, disbelief written in both of their faces. A weapon was a weapon, and Kanan wielded both in a harmony that Ezra believed Obi Wan could never accomplish. Ezra's mouth opened in a comment, but closed it after reviewing what he could possibly say for that. He opened again, a spark of an idea bursting on his tongue. "It has a blaster added on because lightsabers are a spotlight to finding the survivors. Plus, you get long range attack along with the short range with a lightsaber, so when the enemy pushes you away, you still can attack them while the Inquisitors can't. It's really helpful. If I had a baster added onto my knife, back on the streets, they probably wouldn't have taken my leg."

Obi Wan's mouth opened and closed, unsure of how to react. Karan seemed to be in the same state of mind, controlling his emotions later than the older Jedi.

Ezra laughed, uncomfortable with the new information he had just played out. "Don't bring a knife to a blaster fight, am I right?" He laughed a little more, hoping to ease the tension growing in the cave. Don't tell the whole story, Kanan doesn't want to know what happened. "So yeah. That just happened. I'm going to shut up now." Nobody ever wants to know.

Obi Wan turned to Kanan, deftly ignoring Ezra and the past few comments he had just made. Ezra tuned out the voices, embarrassed of what he had just said. Closing his eyes, he tuned himself into the force, curious as to what having an old Jedi would feel like.

Ezra's legs instinctively moved inwards towards his chest. So much sadness radiated from this man. He tried to hide it under wisdom and control, but he could feel the sadness pulsing underneath his wall. So much suffering and loved ones lost, and so much pain tearing at him under his shields. He felt as if he was drowning under it. Gasping for breath, Ezra didn't notice Kanan pulling him close until the smell of his shirt registered with his mind. He didn't notice the tears cascading down his face. This man refused to cry, so he cried for him.

Ezra didn't notice Kanan picking him up and laying him down in a cot, letting him expel his emotions until he was ready to face them. The boy did notice that Kanan never left him, never stopped holding him as he expelled all of his tears. Obi Wan stood near the boy, amazed that he had felt the pain underneath when their force signatures touched. The old man knelt by the weeping Padawan. "He has a talent for connecting."

Kanan smiled, pulling Ezra into his lap, the twin suns setting behind him. "I know. He's done so much more than I imagined. Sit, and I'll tell you all that he has done."


	4. Swimming and Bartering is a Great Idea

Kanan and Ezra never spoke about their conversation with Obi Wan. Not even when Luke hounded them for details, nor when Hera threatened to leave them there if they didn't tell her where they were, we were so worried. Ezra sat in the cargo hold of the Ghost as they took off with not-entirely-junk replaced parts working almost perfectly. They were going to another planet to get better parts before they fell apart in space. Kanan had disappeared with Hera, which Ezra was glad for. He had a feeling that something had changed between them, but he wasn't sure what it was yet.

The Ghost settled on the planet's surface with a thump, knocking Ezra off of his perch. Sabine laughed, seeing him lied sprawled out on the durasteel. She held him a hand, which he gladly took. "Come on Ezra, we have a few parts we need to barter."

Ezra laughed, letting her hand drop once he had risen. "Whatever you say. Let's go." He followed the girl into the marketplace, letting her scan the stalls for the parts they needed. Ezra, meanwhile, kept a lookout for anyone willing to pick a fight with them. And to guard the credits Sabine was carrying. Not that she couldn't guard them herself, it's just that having an extra set of eyes who grew up on the streets would be helpful.

Sabine had been scanning the stalls for a few minutes before groaning in frustration. "Our heaps of junk are better than this."

Ezra grinned, anticipating what they would have to do. "Guess we'll have to take military grade stuff. There's a few of their ships back at the space ports that we can salvage from." It had been a while since they had something different to accomplish against the Empire.

"She wanted us to buy the stuff and she'll notice if we come back with the same amount of credits and military grade parts," Sabine said, rubbing some paint off of her fingers.

"So we take it, buy something from the market, and say we got a really good deal. Blasters are persuasive, and a wink should do the trick."

"What would we buy, and where would we stash it?"

Ezra grinned. "Leave that to me. Go pick out a ship, give me the location, and I'll come after I do what I do. Can I have the credits?"

"Are you serious? What are you going to buy? You know that Hera will kill us if we make a scene." Her voice seemed worried, but her fingers betrayed her in their eagerness to blow something up.

"I'll take a look around, find what I like, maybe get it installed, then I'll come to you where you'll have a brilliant plan that will blow up the ship without the parts we need when we're far away from there. Trust me, we'll be fine, and Hera wouldn't mind the Empire getting a bit of trouble." Ezra grinned, hoping it would seal the deal.

Sabine smiled underneath her helmet. "Don't spend it all. We don't need you buying crap in order to hide the fact that we're not buying crap parts."

Ezra laughed. "Trust me. It wont be junk. Comm me when you're ready."

She saluted, leaving the bag of credits with him. It wasn't until she was around the corner did she realize what he would buy. "The kid probably wants parts for his leg." Her head knocked against a building. "Guess it's a win-win-win then." She smiled, heading towards the space ports to pick a ship that would be compatible with the Ghost.

Ezra pocketed the credits, and strolled amongst the market stalls, curious if we would find a new leg to replace the old one. It was getting too small and the amount of times that it failed scared him. Can't have it fail again during a mission. They were getting too intense for Kanan or anyone else to have to carry him out of there when the leg wouldn't move. Every time that happened, he just felt more embarrassed about how he couldn't pull his weight anymore. They might leave him with Base Leader if he got to be too much of a risk and he couldn't have that. He couldn't be left behind. Not again.

His eyes closed by instinct, curious if the force would lead him to where he needed to go. He took a step forward, melding into the crowd. The crowd churned around him, bumping and sending him skidding along the middle. It was similar, almost comforting in the way the fear of being trampled by an uncaring crowd overwhelmed him again. Ezra opened his eyes, fighting to break above that fear and to make his own way through the crowd without them sending him skidding along as is he were on the wind.

It didn't take as long as he thought it would to find what he wanted. The stall before him held the used leg that looked perfect for him. It was almost new, but damaged enough and bloody enough that no one wanted to buy it. With no competition, the seller would be happy to be rid of the leg on his stall. Ezra made sure that a he seemed disgusted by it, albeit a little curious when he walked up to the man behind the stall. "What happened to that?" He asked, pointing to the leg.

The merchant grinned. "It's brand new, freshly taken from Imperial prison. Though it's a little dirty, it's a fine leg that grows with you."

Ezra choked. "A little dirty? Why is there still leg attached to it then?"

He laughed. "He wasn't using it, and I had to make sure I got every piece." He took it down for Ezra to see, "You can see how they installed it. After all, you want to keep the nerve connectors so that you can feel this leg move like a charm. Only for 1000 credits for this fine specimen."

Ezra laughed. "1000 credits for a piece of junk you can't even sell?"

"I'll have you know that people are lining up to buy this fine leg," the merchant shot back.

Ezra looked around. "What people?"

He seemed to notice the lack of people around his stall. He sighed. "850."

Ezra clicked his tongue is disappointment. " I think we can do better than that. After all, it has to be cleaned and installed."

"700."

With the new leg safely stored in the ceiling above his bunk and 475 credits less, Ezra raced back into the fray hoping to stop Kanan from ruining Sabine's plan. Ezra choked on his breath when he heard his Master scream. Something went terribly wrong. Did he trigger one of Sabine's bombs? He shouldn't have run out when he came back without Sabine. With barely a thought he jumped into the fighting, listening for when Kanan would cry out again. He could not lose focus. Not this time. There was too much at stake here. His lightsaber ignited, instinctively blocking the shots racing toward him. He would not lose focus. Kanan needed him right here in this moment, and he would come.

There were so many doors in his way. He didn't have time to unlock all of them, nor could he cut through them. There just wasn't time. He pushed himself to run faster through the hallways and doors just closing behind him. So much danger, he could not face them all at once.

There. Kanan was trapped underneath rubble blocking the doorway. He could tell that Kanan was too exhausted to lift it off himself before climbing out. Trapped. Kanan was trapped. Ezra raised his hand, helping his Master lift some of the rubble off of him. It wasn't enough where Kanan could just get up. He had to be pulled out, and Ezra wasn't sure if he could even do any of that. He was so tired. Carefully, he grabbed Kanan by the shoulders, and pulled. His muscles strained, but it wasn't enough. Kanan wasn't much a help anymore, mainly because he could tell that he was unconscious. Blaster shots burst over their heads. "More," he said, hissing from the strain. Stopping for a moment of rest, and to rebound the Storm Trooper's shots right back at them, Ezra readied himself for one last effort. Putting away his lightsaber, he grabbed his master, set his feet in position, and pulled with all he had, not minding when his leg sparked and bent under the pressure he was putting it under. Lifting the debris with the force as best as he could, Ezra pulled Kanan out inch by inch, until he was free.

Before Kanan had his bearings, Ezra was pulling him up, supporting him as they stumbled towards the doors together. It would have been a simple walk to the Ghost if the doors were open. With the doors closed, it was going to be much harder. Especially when Kanan's legs were bleeding from who knows how many different wounds. How he could walk, Ezra wasn't sure. Ezra turned to Kanan as he let him rest against the wall. "I'll take care of this." He raised his sparking leg, slightly twisted, and sent it careening into the door. The door shuddered, but did not budge. Setting himself up for another roundhouse kick, he pulled together his focus, and when his foot hit the door, he shoved it more with the force, knocking the door down. He helped Kanan to the next door, where he proceeded to do the same thing.

On they went, until Kanan was rested enough and helped open the doors. He still needed Ezra's support to walk. Ezra tried not to look at Kanan's bloodied legs as his Master lifted up the doors before they stumbled through. Neither had the opportunity to use their lightsabers, so when Storm Troopers were lined up, ready to shoot, Ezra didn't think about going for his lightsaber, instead, dropping Kanan and twisting his body to kick those Storm Troopers in the head with his sparking metal foot. No one would stop him and Kanan from escaping, especially not some stupid bucket heads. Over and over again, the sound of his metal foot crashing into the helmets pounded his ears, driving it into his mind over and over again.

In a practiced movement, Ezra sent the last Storm Trooper crashing into he floor. He helped Kanan to his feet, and kept them moving towards the exit, towards safety. Exhaustion tugged at every fiber of his being, but if they rested, then they would probably die. Kanan wasn't recuperating as fast as he had before, but he was on lacerated legs. Ezra could feel Kanan's pain through the force, and he knew that the force was helping Kanan walk along with Ezra supporting much of his weight on his damaged prosthetic. They continued on towards the Ghost, Kanan unlocking the doors and Ezra kicking any Storm Trooper who dared to stand in their way in the head. It was his mistake, and he was going to make sure that nothing worse happened to them, even at the cost of himself. He should have told them Sabine's plan.

Ezra looked around the massive room searching for enemies. There didn't seem to be any Storm Troopers in sight, nor did any come out behind the small walls of the water tanks. A grin broke out on the exhausted boy's face. "We're almost there Kanan, one more door."

Kanan nodded, concentrating on not collapsing. His legs were still bleeding, but not enough where he would bleed out before they got back to the Ghost. Ezra set him down by one of the open water tanks.

The pounding of marching Troopers echoed in the room. He concentrated, listening. "There's three coming. You rest for a bit. I'll take them," Ezra said, standing to face the incoming Storm Troopers.

"Stop right there, Rebel Scum," one of the Troopers said. He raised his blaster, ready to send out an order. "Kallus wants them alive. Shoot to incapacitate." He then proceeded to shoot Ezra right in his prothetic leg.

Ezra stared at the Storm Trooper who had just hit him. His leg sparked around the new hole the Trooper had just blasted through him. The metal shielding is down, Ezra noted. He gathered his strength for another battle, and pulled out his lightsaber. "Now that," he said, a grin on his face, "was extremely rude. Just to let you know when I beat you I will be much more polite than you were."

The two other Storm Troopers took a step back. They had seen the holovid where he took down three with his hands cuffed behind his back. The one who shot him did not. He took a step forward, a promotion encouraging a fight. "You're just a kid with a bum leg."

Ezra laughed. "Darth Vader has two." He leaped at the Storm Trooper, jumping right for him, sparking leg poised to hit his head first. The first Storm Trooper went down with barely a sigh. The other two, ran, diving behind the Tie Fighters flying in through the now open door. The Tie Fighter in question noticed Ezra as soon as he ignited his lightsaber, firing the cannons at the boy. Ezra blocked a few, the power sending him backwards towards the open water tank behind him. The Tie Fighter shot again, Ezra blocked it successfully, but fell over the short wall inside the water tank, leaving his lightsaber on the ground before the well.

Ezra didn't even have time to scream before his body hit the water. He went under, bubbles spurting from every pocket of air from his clothes and leg. He kicked towards the surface, but the leg caught on water so fast, it pulled him down farther than he could kick up. The last thing he saw before his world turned black was a whirlpool of bubbles shining in the last rays of sunlight.

Kallus waltzed past the fleeing Storm Troopers, murder in his eyes. He spared a glance to the squadron behind him. "Take the Jedi into custody, and find Ezra Bridger. They both must be found alive." The squadron of Storm Troopers spread out, searching for Ezra Bridger, leaving Kallus by the water tank and a cuffed Kanan Jarrus.

Kanan had regained his senses by the time Ezra had fallen into the water tank. The fact that he hadn't come back up was starting to worry him. Could the boy even swim? He looked at the water tank again, noticing a familiar belt floating on top. Ezra was still down there. He started thrashing, hoping to move his much too stiff body towards the tank. Kallus noticed immediately. He turned to what Kanan had saw, realized what the floating belt meant, and dived into the tank without a second to waste.

Kanan forced himself to stay where he was and not go in after Kallus. Instead, he pulled out his comm and talked to Hera about the situation and that they severely needed backup. He then proceeded to wait for Kallus to come back with Ezra.

One minute passed.

Two.

With a burst of bubbles, Ezra was thrown from the water tank right before Kanan who grabbed him and pulled him out. He didn't notice Kallus gasping for air, only seeing his padawan covered in water and not breathing.

Kanan couldn't remember in that moment if he felt anything at all except for blinding panic. He only remembered his throat closing up as he pumped Ezra's chest, breathing for him, waiting for a breath to follow the weak heartbeat.

When Ezra began to choke and throw up all the water he swallowed, Kanan could not be happier. Neither could Kallus, but he wasn't one to show it. All Kallus could see was the destroyed prosthetic that had almost killed them both. He stood ramrod straight, speaking into his comm, "I have them both. Bring me an escort so that I may question them."

Ezra sat up, his near death experience barely forgotten. "You're not taking us," he said, his voice scratching and hoarse. He coughed, trying to clear it and any excess water left behind.

Kallus laughed. "You almost drowned. There is nothing that you can do to stop me."

Ezra looked at Kanan, unsure of what to do. It was for only a moment, but Kanan winked, mouthing one word. "Stall."

Ezra coughed again, pulling his ruined leg closer to him. He dipped his head in a solemn nod, hiding a grin between his knees. Gathering his strength once again, and some from the force, he worked the last pieces of his broken prothetic loose, disconnecting the leg from his body. It didn't take much, considering he had almost had it disconnected before Kallus rescued him. He looked up, throat raspy, and asked. "If I take off my foot and throw it at you, am I kicking or hitting you?"

Kallus turned, surprised. "Wha-?"

Ezra slammed the disconnected prothetic foot into Kallus's kidney. He scooted closer using his real foot before whacking Kallus with the leg again. Kallus fell under the force of the second hit where Ezra continued to brutally club him with the foot until he stopped flinching. Ezra dropped the leg, utterly exhausted, He turned to Kanan, a tired smile on his face. "Always wondered the answer to that question. It's a shame he never answered me."

Kanan laughed, sliding close to Ezra. "You worry me sometimes." He tucked Ezra close, grabbing his fallen lightsaber. "You rest for a bit. I'll wait for our backup to arrive." Ezra closed his eyes, leaning on Kanan's shoulder, and rested.

A pair of angry feet stomped over to them. Kanan flinched, Ezra jerking awake. "What the kriff did you two nerfherders get yourselves into?"

Ezra bowed his head, barely containing a yawn. "Sorry Hera."

She scowled. "You can apologize later. Right now I need you in the Ghost and us out of here before Sabine blows it all up."

Kanan looked at Ezra. "He will need help."

Hera's hands fell to her hips. "Of course he does. I'll carry him."

"Kanan needs help too," Ezra shouted before he choked, dissolving into coughs. "He shouldn't be walking. You help him and I'll crawl."

"Oh no you don't," Hera said, picking Ezra up. She grabbed her comm, speaking into it. "Get out here Zeb, Kanan needs a ride."

Zeb rushed out of the Ghost, picking Kanan up like he was nothing and hurried back. Hera carried Ezra as she would a toddler, and Ezra found himself unable to argue with her to put him down. He was too big to be carried like that, but he found himself leaning against Hera's neck, fighting to keep his eyes open.

His grip on his prosthetic loosened, and Hera caught it before it fell, holding it close and Ezra closer. In the Ghost, Hera set him down gently on Sabine's seat before strapping herself in and taking off, Sabine's newest explosion of color painting the night sky behind her. Safely in hyperspace, she took notice of the metal leg resting against her own, soaking her suit. Picking it up, she rotated the broken false knee in fascination, wishing with all her heart that they would have found Ezra before this happened to him. Her hand went to the boy's hair, smoothing it out of his face. Sabine spoke over the comms confirming that Kanan would be fine, but confined to bed. Ezra was only exhausted. Both would heal just fine. She stared at the empty space where Ezra's leg should have been for a moment before leaving Chopper to drive and to check up on Kanan. "At least they're safe now," Hera said to herself before leaving Ezra on the chair to receive some much needed rest.


	5. Hoth Happens to be Cold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter of this story. Hope you had fun reading it. It would be nice to hear what you guys thought of it. Feel free to comment your thoughts. Thanks for the memories.

Ezra put the last wires into place on his new leg, content to leave the metal bare. With all he would put it through, replacing the synthetic skin every time it got burned or scraped would be more of a hassle than just fixing and cleaning up the leg himself. Plus, now that they knew of his leg, he felt much more comfortable walking around with it bare. His boot was a little small, but it would stretch to fit. It's not like it bothered him or anything. He couldn't feel it. For some reason, Hera kept the leg, keeping it hidden in her room. He had only two glimpses of it when he walked by and was scared to ask Hera about it. She didn't need it for anything, and they could sell it for scraps. Might buy a week worth of rations, but even when they went through five systems, the leg was still in her room.

The leg was on his mind constantly, please-don't-tell-Kanan-or-Hera, even as they traveled to an entirely new planet. Ezra was forced from his thoughts by Kanan dumping three blankets over his head. "What's this for?" he asked, trying to escape the blanket's grasp.

"We're going to Hoth. We haven't got you a coat yet. You'll want it," Kanan said.

Ezra fingered the blankets, unsure of how to respond. Most days, he was sure of what to expect from this family, and then the moments where they do something, and then he realizes that he's part of this family as well. They cared for him. They made sure he would be warm enough for the weather. He was actually part of this ring family and not just a guest. It was an interesting idea, and Ezra wasn't sure it wasn't a dream. He hoped it wasn't a dream.

"What are we doing there?"

"To see if it's good enough for a backup base," Sabine said, "Organa wants as many potential backups as possible, and Hoth is on that list." She pulled on a thick coat. and matching gloves. "It snows there year round. You'll want those blankets pretty quickly."

"I wasn't going to not wear them, Sabine," Ezra muttered, sorting the blankets by the order he planned on putting them on. The Ghost shuddered from the landing on the snowy planet. Hera and Chopper were running around, prepping the Ghost for the new conditions as Ezra busied himself with getting the blankets to act as a makeshift snowsuit.

Soon enough, everyone was trekking through the snow as they searched the terrain for the best possible backup base. Ezra was shivering not even three minutes of walking, and he refused to say anything about his metal leg, and that it was taking more effort to move it than it should be. They were in the snow after all. It should be harder to move. Not harder to bend. Like it seemed t be doing. Ezra swore under his breath. They were just out of sight of the Ghost when the knee joint stopped moving altogether. His pace had been slowing, and the others were far enough ahead that they couldn't hear him swearing at his leg. He stumbled forward. This leg was new, it shouldn't be slowing him down this much. They thought they were done with leg problems. Ha. He would be dealing with it. He stripped a blanket from his head and tied it around the frozen wires. Hopefully it would help enough that the leg would move again. He would have to ask Chopper to help him alter his leg if this was going to be a common occurrence. He turned away from the biting wind as he secured the blanket around his leg. Satisfied with the results, Ezra stood, and proceeded to move as if nothing had ever happened to him. Until he fell flat on his face into the snow. He flailed around, hoping that no one would see him, but someone would help him, because he may or may not be stuck.

Kanan stopped. "Where's Ezra?"

Zeb growled. "How can he run off in a terrible place like this? The snow's blowing too hard to see too far."

"I'll retrace our steps. You go on ahead," Sabine said, turning to look for their passing footprints. "He might have just lagged behind." She started away, hoping that Ezra didn't wander off, or get taken away by one of the wild animals that roam these barren plains.

Sabine stumbled her way back through the snow, searching the never-ending whiteness hoping for a splash of color who may or may not be Ezra. Just past the ridge where the Ghost was barely out of view, she tripped over something hard. Sabine went back to what she thought was a rock. She kicked it, curious if it was a rock or not.

"I'm going to die alone," the rock moaned.

Not a rock. Sabine laughed in relief. "Are you stuck, Ezra?"

"My leg stopped moving," Ezra said through the snow.

Sabine stared at him, trying her hardest to not laugh too hard. "What do you want me to do about it?"

"Don't you say a word about this to anyone. You hear me?" Ezra said, attempting to move to his back, shivering when a clump of snow found its way through the blankets to his bare skin.

"My silence has a price."

"So does my death but I'm not trying to get anything out of that either."

"Yes, you are."

"No," Ezra said.

"It's your life, or my silence," Sabine said, "Unless you pay a different price."

Ezra groaned. "What is it?"

"You let me paint your leg whenever, and however I want."

Ezra shivered, and he was sure it wasn't all from the cold. Was her silence really worth it? "For how long?"

Sabine smiled, unsure if she would follow through. "For the rest of our lives."

"Karabast," Ezra said, squirming in the snow, "Help me up."

Strong hands wrapped around Eza's middle, hoisting him out of his small prison in the snow. His feet were set on the path everyone else had already traversed. He took a step forward, and promptly fell again. Sabine burst out laughing, already bending over to pick him up again.

"Not a word," Ezra said as he was adjusted on Sabine's back piggy-back style.

Sabine didn't say anything, only trudging through the snow back to the Ghost crew, letting Ezra lean up against her. She had walked for a while before she broke the silence between them. "How about you talk so I know you aren't dead?"

Ezra snuggled close to her neck, intent to whisper what ever he wanted to say. He wasn't sure what to start with, but he obvious. "This leg doesn't do cold so well."

"No kriffing way," Sabine said, adjusting him better on her back, "How could anyone tell?"

"I thought you wanted me talking?" Ezra said, trying not not pout, "It's not my fault this leg can't do cold. I bought it from a guy who probably never experienced a winter before." He continued to talk about random things while Sabine worked on catching up to the crew.

Sabine stumbled just as their crew came into view. "Put me down. I can walk the last bit," Ezra said, shifting his weight so Sabine had to put him down. Once he was on the ground, he forced himself forward, leaning on Sabine as they slowly trudged through the snow. It was slow going. Even with Sabine being so exausted, it would have been quicker if she took a nap and carried him the rest of the way after. Yet, their crew was waiting for them.

In the same spot Sabine left them apparently. Until Kanan surged forward, picking up Ezra and letting him test against his back while helping Sabine stumble towards Zeb who picked her up without question. Ezra leaned against Kanan's back as they continued on their way to scout a possible base on Hoth.

Kanan had walked with Ezra on his back for some time before his curiosity got the best of him. "What happened?"

Ezra sighed, resting his head on Kanan's shoulder, mouth close to his ear and slowly spilled the story of his stupid leg and the fact he kept getting stuck in the snow and kriff, Kanan, how are you so warm? Kanan chuckled in reply, letting the kid ramble through what was happening in his head, which was nicer than having to guess every thought he might have been having.

They ended up taking shifts carrying Ezra through the snow. They didn't know who exactly they would need when they arrived at the spot Ashoka suggested for a backup base.

The space didn't look ideal when they first stumbled onto it. The cave itself was large enough for the base, sure, but it would need some serious work. Heaters most definitely. Zeb set Ezra down, anticipating a fight brewing in the depths of the massive cave. It looked deep, but not deep enough for the purposes the Rebel base would need. Kanan fingered his comm, unsure if working on a base here would be worth it in the end.

Sabine turned, eyeing the snowy expanse with an expert eye. "It's doable, but just barely so." She gestured to the entrance. "This would have to keep its natural look and they could build barricades underneath the snow for attack. The cave would need to be bigger and deeper, but it's possible."

The comm crackled, and Hera's voice came through full of static. "Roughly how much time and how much work?"

"We'd need to see the inside to be sure, but you're u could start a small base already and work on the inside for a bigger station," Sabine replied. "Shall we see what's lurking in the shadows?"

"There's no need to be so dramatic," Ezra said, readjusting his blankets again, "but I'm freezing, and I've heard caves are nicer that out in the snow."

"This is nothing compared to what I had to go through to be on the Honor Guard," Zeb said, eyes roaming the too white terrain, "However, I don't like the feeling of being so exposed."

"I feel ya, big guy," Kanan said. He stared at the cave, as if waiting for an angry animal to come charging out any second. "Who's turn is it to carry Ezra?"

Sabine laughed as Ezra fumbled to stand and walk on his own, muttering darkly about how he could walk and how they didn't need to carry him. Zeb joined in when he successfully stood, took a few steps, and then fell flat onto his face again. Ezra swore. He hated the fact that he was useless today, and even a hindrance to the mission. Again.

He kept on swearing as Zeb picked him up and led the group into the cave. The swearing stumbled to a halt when Kanan's hand clutched his lightsaber. It wasn't time to be making noise. Rather, Ezra realized, he should be keeping an eye and sense out since he wasn't able to do anything else productive. Stupid stupid leg. The group kept trudging deeper into the cave. Kanan had ignited his lightsaber for some light, and Sabine's flashlight bounced along the jagged walls, searching for an enemy or something else.

The faint sunlight of Hoth's sun had all but disappeared as they traveled deeper and Sabine had stopped. "Did you find anything?" Ezra asked, leaning against Zeb's arm.

Sabine eyed the wall, and pulling out one of her paint cans, began one of her paintings.

Kanan stared at her. "Is this really the time to be doing that?"

Sabine shrugged, "This cave needed something and this spot called to me." She continued painting while Kanan, Zeb, and Ezra watched her and their surroundings as her signature star bird came into existence. Once it was finished, she put away her paints and admired her work.

"Beautiful as always," Kanan said, a note of joy lacing his voice, "But we have to finish scouting this place." Kanan continued, turning once to see her masterpiece again.

Ezra couldn't stop looking at it. There wasn't really anything else to look at, and it was boring not walking like the others. As Zeb carried him deeper into the cave, Ezra's vison wavered, the brilliant painting faded to be framed by white walls and the constant murmur of a thousand voices accomplishing their duties at once. He blinked and it was gone, fading into a memory.

No one else seemed to have saw what he did, so Ezra said nothing, keeping an eye on their backs.

Their journey through the cave was rather boring, and Ezra fought to stay awake and keep an eye peeled for danger. The cave was massive, and seemed to go on for a million clicks.

Yet, they reached the end of the cave with no sign of an enemy in sight. Abandoned, spacious, and on a forgettable planet, it was the ideal base. Except for the snow. Most species can't stand the cold and getting enough heaters to warm a major base would be too costly to run for however long this war against the Empire would last. Sabine let her hands roam he end of the cave, maybe hoping for something more to it. Ezra slumped against Zeb's back, furiously blinking back sleep. There was nothing to look at, which meant there wasn't really anything to do.

After thoroughly looking for something else to explore with no success, they turned around and headed back toward he entrance of the cave. Zeb wanted to comm Hera but all that could get through was static. Sabine's shoulders slouched a little now that the journey came with no threats or surprises. Ezra had completely fallen asleep, limp against Zeb's back who was dragging his large feet, dreading the long walk out of the cave. Kanan's grip on his lightsaber had slackened, letting his normally tense body relax a little.

The poor kid. They kept walking towards he exit, eyes dull as the adrenaline rush and no expected fight left the group drained and sleepy. Each step seemed to pound upon the snow and rock, sending up a rhythmic beat, sending their lull deeper and deeper. Nothing could possibly happen now that they unexplored had been explored. Two-hundred steps. Three-hundred. On and on and on their steps came, two hard boots and clawed feet beating a rhythm that sent the child deeper in his sleep despite the cold creeping further and further into their bones.

It wasn't his fault. Everyone was sleep walking when he appeared right before them. They didn't notice he was there until the signature sound of a lightsaber pierced through the air. He couldn't have noticed. Ezra snapped awake when Kanan's lightsaber ignited and Zeb's grip on him dissipated, dropping the small boy into the snow.

"You have made a grave mistake, Jedi," the voice of Fifth Brother cut through the frigid air.

"A mistake that brings me great pleasure to see you," Seventh Sister said, igniting her own lightsaber, illuminating the glee on her face.

Kanan settled into a stance, analyzing the threats before him. Which one was the most threatening, and which one could Zeb and Sabine take?

His decision was made for him when Seventh Sister launched herself at him, forcing Kanan to focus on her. Zeb and Sabine would be fine. They would have to be fine. Ezra hopefully wouldn't be caught in the crossfire since he's indisposed at the moment.

"You know," the female inquisitor said, locking sabers with Kanan's, "It's rude to be focused on anything other than your date."

Kanan smirked, "Sadly my date isn't here right now. However, there is this annoying girl that thinks she can take her place."

She snarled, leaping away to help Fifth Brother with his battle against Sabine and Zeb, who were surprisingly holding their own pretty well. Ezra was helping as much as he could, shooting to distract and using his lightsaber to block anything heading his way. Sabine and Zeb did their best to keep Fifth Brother from approaching Ezra, and they weren't doing too bad. Until Seventh Sister decided to help, rebounding one of Sabine's shots into her unprotected arm, sending her down with barely a cry of surprise. Ezra screamed, trying to shuffle himself over to her to help in any way.

Seventh Sister shoved Zeb off of her, approaching the two kids, a maniacal smile on her face. "Hello kiddos," she said, gripping her lightsaber with one hand, "you've both been very naughty. You both will be punished." She raised it above her head, poised to kill. "It's murder time." She let the red blade drop. Sabine tried to roll away but her injured arm impeded her ability to roll properly. With a shaking hand, Sabine shot blindly at the impressive mass of a being before her. The female inquisitor did not react, and her blade did not falter.

Sabine closed her eyes as the heat of the lightsaber grew hotter. She was going to die. At least she went down fighting in an honorable death. Just as the red blade touched her neck, a fierce blue blade stopped it, followed by two feet standing over her, pushing the red blade away. "Ezra?" Sabine asked in awe. He wasn't able to stand. What happened?

Ezra smirked at her, "Just paying back a favor. Can't have my leg bare and boring forever." He took one step forward, metal limb glinting in the sparse light, shoving the female inquisitor as far away from them in his unstable position.

Seventh Sister stared at his leg, letting her lightsaber extinguish. "When did this happen, child. Did your so-called family do this to you?"

Ezra stood tall. "Nope, this happened before them. It doesn't matter what you say to me about how alone I was then, I'm not alone now, and I never will be alone again." Zeb and Kanan had grouped together while he was talking, Fifth Brother had mysteriously disappeared, and Ezra had an idea how. He took one more step forward. "You may try your mind games with me, but nothing you do to me will hurt as much as losing this leg has already given me. You may torture me with all you have, but it will be nothing to what I've experienced before. So here's a word of advice," he gestured towards her with his lightsaber, "stay away from me and my family, because you will not win."

Kanan and Zeb appeared on both sides of her, leaving her with only two options; fight and lose, or escape out the exit they left open for her. Seventh Sister turned to find Fifth Brother, and bolted when she couldn't find him. Her frantic footsteps faded quickly, leaving the tired group to themselves in the cave.

Ezra turned to help Sabine up. "You good?"

Sabine nodded, touching the new scar on her neck while holding her burned arm close to her body. "Thanks for the save."

"No problem," Ezra said, extinguishing his lightsaber. He turned to Kanan, "Can we head home now? Hera's probably worried."

Kanan laughed. "Yeah. Let's head home."

Ezra trudged through the hallway, trying to keep quiet enough to make it into his bed without waking anyone. He could barely keep his eyes open, even after Hera's lecture. Too bad Kanan wasn't asleep and waiting for Ezra to stumble towards his bed and into Kanan's waiting frame. Ezra stopped just before the strange muscular wall of green. Strong hands grabbed his shoulders, bright teal eyes staring into his blue ones.

"Ezra," Kanan said, his voice hoarse from un-use. Ezra blinked slowly, forcing his eyes to open farther than half-way. He hadn't seen Kanan since they got back. Kanan led him to his own bed, letting him sit while he sat on the floor. "What really happened to you?" he said, barely a question and barely above a whisper.

Ezra yawned, wishing he could die to avoid this conversation. He wasn't old enough, and Kanan probably wouldn't appreciate that. Plus, too many close calls today. He sighed, blinking, before the words hit him like a freight train and became more awake than he had been in the past week. "Why do you need to know?"

Kanan bowed his head. "I care about you."

Ezra nodded, closing his eyes for a brief second, the memory of that month flashing before his eyes. "I was 11. It was a particularly bad winter that year and a Storm Trooper had gotten a lucky shot when I was taking his belt. He had hit me in the leg square on. It didn't close like they usually do. I bandaged it up as best as I could, but it got infected faster than I had ever seen. It slowed me down, so when I went to take someone's meal, he had a blade, and cut me in the same leg. It was deep enough and infected enough that I had to remove it. The leg. I made it look pretty with some makeup I had acquired from a friend, wrapped it up nice and pretty, and cut it all the way off. Worst night of my life. I then sold it to the body marketers and used the money to get a prosthetic. Had to pay off that debt for three years after everything, including the food that guy provided. Whoever bought my leg hopefully died from the infection in it. Haven't seen the body marketer since, so maybe he died from it." He stared at the floor as he spoke, explaining what happened during the surgeries, and the long years repaying the debt. Kanan listened, fighting back any emotional response until Ezra lied down and fell asleep.

After Ezra had fallen asleep did Kanan react; collapsing in on himself and forcing himself into another deep meditation. Ezra did what he had to do to survive, but hearing what he had done to do tore at his heart. A heart he had sworn wouldn't be torn again so long ago. Not anymore. To care he had to sacrifice the security of not being hurt by loving and letting himself be loved, which is what Ezra would need for the rest of his life. To spend such a large part of your childhood grown up and fighting battles and hardships most adults would not wish on themselves. Kanan opened his eyes, smoothly unfolding himself off the floor. Never again would he be left alone or without knowing he was loved and cared for.

Ezra shifted in bed, a bright smile upon his face. Everything was okay, and he finally had somewhere to belong and people to love. What more could he ask for?


End file.
